Claimed: Secret Royal Son
Marion Lennox

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Copyright

To Sheila, who makes my books better. With gratitude.

CHAPTER ONE

‘WAKE up, Lily.’

There were two doctors and four nurses gathered by the bed. This had been groundbreaking surgery. Heroic stuff. If Lily hadn’t been close to death already, they’d never have tried it.

After the operation she’d been kept in an induced coma to give her damaged brain time to recover. They’d saved her life, but would she wake up…whole?

The junior nurse—the gofer in this small, exclusive French hospital—had nothing to do right now and she was free to think about the patient. She’d seen this girl come in a month ago, deeply unconscious, drifting towards death. Rumour said she was related to royalty, but no one came near her.

A nurse was supposed to be objective. She wasn’t supposed to care.

There wasn’t one person around this bed who didn’t care.

‘Wake up, Lily,’ the surgeon said again, pressing his patient’s hand. ‘The operation’s over. It was a huge success. You’re going to be okay.’

And finally Lily’s eyelids fluttered open.

She had dark eyes. Brown. Too big for her face.

Confused.

‘Hey,’ the surgeon said and smiled. ‘Hello, Lily.’

‘H…Hello.’ It was a faint whisper, as if she’d forgotten how to speak.

‘How many fingers am I holding up?’

‘Three,’ she said, not interested.

‘That’s great,’ the surgeon said, jubilant. ‘You’ve been ill—really ill—but we’ve operated and the tumour’s been completely removed. You’re going to live.’

Lily’s gaze was moving around the room, taking in each person. The medical uniforms. The eager, interested faces.

And then, as if she’d remembered something really important, her eyes widened. Fearful.

‘Are you in pain?’ the surgeon asked. ‘What hurts, Lily?’

‘Nothing hurts. But…’ Her hand shifted, slow from disuse, and her fingers spread over her abdomen.

‘Where’s my baby?’

CHAPTER TWO

‘I, ALEXANDROS KOSTANTINOS MYKONIS, do swear to govern the peoples of the United Isles of Diamas—the Diamond Isles—on behalf of my infant cousin Michales, until such time as he reaches twenty-five years of age.’

Alex’s black uniform was slashed with inserts of crimson and richly adorned with braid, tassels and medals. A lethal-looking sword hung by his side, its golden grip emblazoned with the royal coat of arms. His snug black-as-night trousers looked sexy-as-hell, and his leather boots were so shiny a girl could see her face in them.

If she got close enough. As once she’d been close.

Lily could barely see Alex’s face from where she watched in the further-most corner of the cathedral, but she knew every inch of his hawk-like features. His brown-black eyes were sometimes creased with laughter, yet sometimes seemed so severe she’d think he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It had been wonderful to make him smile. He’d made her smile, too.

He’d melted her heart—or she thought he had. Love was all about trust, and trust was stupid. She’d learned that now, but what a way to learn.

She watched on, numbed by the day’s events. Shocked. Bewildered. Trying desperately to focus on what was happening.

The ring, the glove, the royal stole, the rod with the dove, were bestowed on Alex with gravity, and with gravity he accepted them. This coronation ceremony was as it had been for generations. Alex looked calm, assured and regal.

The last time she’d seen him he’d been in her bed, leaning over her in the aftermath of loving. His eyes had been wicked with laughter. His jeans and shirt had been crumpled on the floor.

Alexandros Mykonis. Successful landscape architect, internationally acclaimed. Her one-time lover.

The new Prince Regent of the Diamond Isles.

The father of her baby.

‘Doesn’t he look fabulous?’ The woman sitting next to her—a reporter, according to the press pass round her neck—was sighing mistily as Alex knelt to receive the blessing.

‘He does,’ Lily whispered back.

They watched on. He was well worth watching.

The blessing over, Alex rose and proceeded to sign the royal deeds of office. Trumpeters, organist and choir filled the church with triumphant chorus, but there was room within the music’s shadow for talk.

‘There’s not a single woman here who doesn’t think he’s hot,’ the reporter whispered.

Lily hesitated. She should keep quiet, but she was here with a purpose. If she were to get her baby back she needed all the information she could gather. ‘It’s a wonder he’s not married,’ she ventured.

‘He’s not the marrying kind,’ the reporter told her, sighing again with the waste of it. ‘Though not for want of interest. There’s always been some woman or other. My guess is he’s disillusioned. His father, King Giorgos’s brother, disobeyed royal orders and married for love, but the marriage caused nothing but grief.’

‘Why?’ she asked, but before the reporter could answer they were distracted.

The Archbishop, magnificent in his gold and white ecclesiastical gowns, had handed newly signed documents to an elderly priest.

The priest, a bit doddery and clearly nervous, took the documents with fumbling fingers—and dropped them.

‘That’s Father Antonio,’ the reporter whispered as the old priest stared down at the scattered papers in dismay. ‘He’s been the island’s priest for as long as I can remember. The Archbishop didn’t want him to be part of this ceremony, but Prince Alexandros insisted.’

The old priest was on his knees, trying to gather the scattered documents, clearly distressed. Instead of helping, the Archbishop looked on with distaste. Following his lead, the other officials did nothing.

It was Alex who came to his rescue. As if this pomp and ceremony was an everyday occurrence, he stooped to help gather the papers, then helped the old man to his feet.

Then, as the old priest’s face worked, trying desperately to contain his distress at his clumsiness, Alex set his hands on his shoulders and he kissed him. Once on each cheek, in the age-old way of the men of this island.

It was a gesture of affection and of respect.

It was a gesture to restore dignity.

‘Thank you, Father,’ Alex said simply, his deep voice resonating throughout the church. ‘You’ve looked after the islanders well during my whole life. You baptised me, you buried my parents, and now you do me honour by being here. You have my gratitude.’

He smiled, and almost every woman in the cathedral sighed and smiled in unison.

‘See, that’s why the islanders love him,’ the reporter whispered, smiling mistily herself. ‘That’s why the islanders would have loved him to take the throne himself. If only this baby hadn’t been born. Who’d have expected the old King to get himself a son at his age? He only did it to block Alex from the succession. His marriage to Mia was a farce.’

But Lily was no longer listening. That smile…that gentleness…

She’d forgotten, she thought, blinking back involuntary tears. She’d forgotten why she’d lost her heart.

She was being dumb. Emotional. She needed to gather information and move on. She needed to stay detached.

Impossible, but she had to try.

‘What happened with his parents’ marriage?’ she managed.

The reporter was gazing adoringly at Alex but she was still willing to talk, and she hadn’t lost the thread of their conversation.

‘Horrid story,’ she said absently. ‘Alex was their only child. Because his father was Giorgos’s brother and Giorgos was childless, until this baby was born Alex was heir to his uncle’s throne. When Alex was five his father drowned, and Giorgos banished his mother from the island. But because Alex was his heir, he kept him. He didn’t care for him, though. Alex was brought up in isolation at the castle. When he was fifteen rumour has it that he stood up to his uncle—I have no idea what he threatened him with but it worked. His mother was allowed back. She and Alex went to live in their old home but she died soon after. They say Alex hated his uncle for it—they say he hated everything to do with royalty. But now he’s stuck, minding the throne for this baby but with no real power himself.’

Suddenly the reporter’s focus was distracted. Some angle of light—something—had redirected her attention to Lily. A glance become a stare. ‘Do I know you?’ she demanded. ‘You look familiar.’

Uh-oh. She shouldn’t have talked. Not here, not at such close quarters where she could be studied. ‘I don’t think so.’ She tugged her scarf further down over her tight-cropped curls and pretended to be absorbed in the proceedings again.

‘I’m sure I know you.’ The girl was still staring.

‘You don’t,’ she said bluntly. ‘I only arrived this morning.’ To shock, to heartache and to confusion.

‘You’re a relative? A friend? An official?’ The girl was looking at her clothes. They were hardly suitable for such an event. She’d done her best, but her best was shabby. She’d gone for a plain and simple black skirt and jacket, a bit loose now on her too-thin frame. Her only indulgence was her scarf. It was tie-dyed silk, like a Monet landscape, a lovely confection of rose and blue and palest lemon.

She knew she didn’t fit in with these glamorous people from all around the world. How anyone could link her with her older sister…

‘You look like the Queen,’ the girl said, and it took all her control to stop herself flinching.

‘I’m sure I don’t.’

‘You’re not related?’

She made herself smile. ‘How could you think that?’ she managed. ‘Queen Mia is so glamorous.’

‘But she’s abandoned her baby,’ the reporter whispered, distracted from Alex’s romantic background and filled with indignation for a more recent scandal. ‘Can you imagine? The King dies and Mia walks away with one of the world’s richest men. Leaving her baby.’

Her baby. Her baby!

But still the girl was staring. She had to deflect the attention somehow. ‘I’m here in an official capacity,’ she told the reporter bluntly, in a voice that said no more questions.

She fingered the gilt invitation in her jacket pocket. When she’d arrived—in those first few dreadful minutes when she’d realised what Mia had done—she’d half expected to be turned away. But Mia had invited her and apparently she was still on the official guest list. Alex had probably long forgotten her existence. Her papers were in order. Her invitation was real. There was no problem.

Ha! There were problems everywhere. Where to go from here?

A trumpet was sounding alone now, a glorious blaze of sound that had the congregation on their feet, applauding the new Prince Regent. Prince Alexandros of the Diamond Isles swept down the aisle, looking every inch a monarch, every inch a royal. Looking worlds away from the Alex she’d fallen in love with.

He was smiling, glancing from side to side as he passed, making eye contact with everyone.

He’d be a much better ruler than the old King, Lily thought, feeling dazed. He’d be a man of the people. Others were clapping and so did she.

His gaze swept past her—and stopped. There was a flicker of recognition.

His smile faded.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them he’d passed, but once again the reporter looked at her, her face alive with curiosity.

‘He knew you,’ she breathed.

‘I’ve met him…once.’

‘Excuse me, but he looked like he hated you,’ the girl said.

‘Well, that would be a nonsense,’ Lily managed. ‘He hardly knows me and I hardly know him. Now, if you’ll excuse me…’

She turned her back on the girl and joined the slow procession out into the morning sunshine. Only she knew how hard it was to walk. Only she knew her knees had turned to jelly.

She was here for her baby, but all she wanted was to run.

What the hell was she doing here?

Alex shook one hand after another, so many hands his arms ached. His smile stayed pinned in place by sheer willpower. Would this day never end?

And what was Lily doing here?

He’d met her once, for two days only. For a short, sweet time he’d thought it could be different. It could be…something. But then she’d left without goodbyes, slipping away in the pre-dawn light and catching the ferry to Athens before he’d woken.

It hadn’t stopped him looking for her—up and down the Eastern seaboard of the United States, searching for the sister of the Queen, who he’d been told was a boat-builder.

He hardly believed the boat-builder bit. When he’d asked Mia she’d simply shrugged. ‘My parents separated. I went with my mother, but Lily chose to stay with my father, so I’ve barely seen her since childhood. Her whereabouts and what she does is therefore not my concern. I don’t see why it should be yours.’

Undeterred, he’d kept searching. He’d finally found her employer—an elderly Greek boatbuilder based in Maine, who’d eyed him up and down and decided to be honest.

‘Yes, I employ Lily, but she won’t thank me for admitting she’s the Queen’s sister. No one here knows the connection except my family. And, as for telling you where she is…In honesty, my friend, I don’t know. She left here a month ago, pleading ill health. She gets headaches—bad ones—and they’re getting worse. We told her to take a break, get healthy and come back to us. My wife is worried about her. We’re keeping her apartment over our yard because we value her, but for now…she’s gone and we don’t know where.’

So he’d been left—again—with the searing sense of loss that was grief. He’d lost his father when he was five and the old King had torn him from his mother. When finally he’d been old enough to make choices for himself, he’d been reunited with his mother, only to have her die as well.

He’d been gutted. The old King’s cruelty cut deep. He’d sworn at his mother’s graveside not to get attached again. He’d sworn to have as little as possible to do with royalty.

But somehow the Queen’s sister had slipped under his defences.

While they’d made love…while they’d talked and laughed into the night…while he’d held her close and listened to her heartbeat…while he’d felt the wonder of their bodies merging as if they were one…it had seemed then as if she was falling for him as hard as he was falling for her. But in the end, for Lily, it must have been a mere onenight stand. Like her sister, was she just after scalps?

The memory of his useless vow had slammed back, mocking him.

Then she’d phoned.

He’d been back in Manhattan, getting on with his life. It had been mid-morning. He’d just fielded a stressful call. He’d still been feeling irritated that Lily so obviously hadn’t wanted to be found. He’d been caught off guard and he’d made a stupid joke.

Okay, it had been the wrong thing to joke about. It had been crude, but she hadn’t given him a chance to apologise. She’d cut the connection. That had been that.

He’d never wanted to fall for her in the first place. Dammit, he did not want to get emotionally involved, especially with someone connected to Mia.

Somehow she’d breached his defences, but that was a mistake. His defences had to get stronger.

So now, for her to turn up here, today…

He was doing all the right things, saying the right things, moving through the crowd with practised ease, but all the time he was looking out for her. A woman dressed in a drab black suit with a crazy scarf…

‘Hey, Alex, look at you.’ It was Nikos, and Stefanos was right behind him. As a kid, these two had been his best friends. Stefanos was from Khryseis, Nikos was from Argyros.

‘When we grow up we’ll rule the islands together,’ they’d declared. Even as teenagers, they’d dreamed.

Once upon a time the Diamond Isles had been ruled as three principalities; Sappheiros, Khryseis and Argyros—the Isles of Sapphire, Gold and Silver. Then, two hundred years back, the Crown Prince of Sappheiros had invaded his neighbours. He’d taken control and rewritten the constitution. For as long as he had a direct male heir, the islands would be ruled as one kingdom.

For generations, successive kings had bled the islands dry. Finally came Giorgos, a weak excuse for a monarch. He also had no interest in women, and for years it appeared he’d be the last of the direct line. The islanders had held their collective breath.

Alex and Nikos and Stefanos had held their breath.

Alex had stood to inherit the crown of Sappheiros—as Giorgos’s nephew and legitimate heir. Stefanos stood one step back from inheriting the Isle of Khryseis, and Nikos might as well be ruler of Argyros. They were strong men with a common purpose. When the old King died, when the islands reverted to being independent nations, they’d rebuild their economies, they’d stop the siphoning of wealth to the royals and they’d form democracies.

But then, stunningly, Giorgos had married Mia, a woman forty years his junior—and Mia had produced a son. The old rule prevailed. As Giorgos’s nephew, Alex could rule, but only as Prince Regent until the baby came of age. The baby would be the next King.

So he was stuck, Alex thought, still watching for Lily, still distracted by his friends but never getting away from his overriding disgust at the way things had played out. He’d be playing father to the child of a man he’d loathed. He’d be playing Prince Regent to a country whose rule he despised, with no authority to change things. And his friends…Behind their smiles there was desperation. They hid it as they’d always hidden it. With humour and false bravado.

‘Hey, look at you!’ Stefanos exclaimed, clapping his hand on Alex’s shoulder. ‘One more tassel and you’ll be declared a Christmas tree.’

‘All you need is some fairy lights,’ Nikos agreed, laughing. ‘Hey…’

‘Mia’s sister’s here,’ he said before they could continue. ‘Lily.’

Their banter ceased. They were great friends, Alex thought. If this baby hadn’t been born, how much good could they have done?

These two had met Lily. They’d seen how he felt about her. Maybe his feelings were still showing in his face, but he couldn’t prevent them.

‘Why the hell…?’ Nikos demanded, looking round. ‘I can’t see her.’

‘She’s playing a drab country mouse—black skirt and jacket, and a scarf over her hair. I guess she thinks it’ll stop people recognising her.’

‘She has a nerve coming here,’ Stefanos said. ‘If the people knew…They’re aching to lynch Mia.’

‘Lily’s not Mia.’

‘I seem to remember she wound you round her little finger,’ Nikos said, still smiling, but his eyes were watchful and tinged with sympathy.

‘Yeah, I fell hard,’ Alex said, trying to make his voice light. ‘I was conned, as Giorgos was conned.’

‘Hey, Mia didn’t con him. She married him and she bore his child.’

‘She married for power and position.’

‘And you fell for the sister.’

‘It was little more than a one-night stand. Why the hell’s she here?’

‘Ask her.’

‘I guess I must,’ he said heavily. ‘If Lily thinks she can still play at being part of the royal family…’

‘You’ll set her right?’ Stefanos asked.

‘Of course I will,’ Alex said heavily. ‘And then she’ll leave.’

A royal birth, a royal death and a baby abandoned by a royal mother…It had taken Lily most of the day to figure out exactly what had happened.

She’d listened. She’d asked discreet questions of other guests, and she was appalled. She knew enough now to realise the islanders were almost as appalled as she was. There was massive dissent. One more shock might well bring down the monarchy and, for some reason she hadn’t figured out, that’d be a disaster.

But it couldn’t matter, Lily thought bleakly as the day wore on and she sifted information. She wasn’t royal but she wanted the baby. She wanted her baby.

Finally she made her way to the nursery. She found it simply by asking for directions from a maid, sounding authoritative, then slipping quietly in without asking.

The nursery was empty, apart from its tiny prince.

Michales was sleeping. He was tucked on his side in his crib, rolled in a soft fuzz of blanket, sucking his thumb in sleep. He had a thatch of thick black curls, amazing for a baby so young. His long lashes fluttered over his tiny cheeks as he slept.

He was…beautiful.

He was hers.

Michales, named after her father, Michael. That was the only promise Mia had kept.

Over the last few weeks she’d wondered how she’d feel when she first saw him, but now, as she gazed at her sleeping son she knew what she felt. Anger? Betrayal? Yes, both of those, but overriding every thing…love. He was perfect, she thought in wonder as she gazed down at her sleeping baby.

Her son. Her baby. Michales.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

Alex’s voice made her jump. Everything about this man made her jump. He was like a panther, moving with stealth wherever he was least expected. She whirled and found him watching from the doorway, his face impassive.

Twelve months ago she’d found him irresistible. Drop dead gorgeous. Passionate. Even tender.

Now he just looked angry. Regally angry. So far from the Alex she remembered that she cringed.

‘I came…I came to see my sister,’ she managed.

‘As you see—Mia’s gone. Abandoning her baby. Abandoning everything to join a man so rich he can buy what she thinks she deserves. Are you saying you didn’t know?’

‘I didn’t.’ She fingered the invitation in her pocket, fighting for courage. The anger on Alex’s face was enough to frighten a braver woman than she was. ‘She asked me to come. She sent me an invitation. I arrived this morning to find her…’

‘Gone,’ he said bluntly. ‘With the son of a sheikh. Apparently she’d been planning it since her husband died. Maybe before. Who knows?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’re sorry?’ He stared at her as if she were part of her sister. They looked alike, Lily thought numbly, and he wasn’t seeing her. He was seeing Mia, and the way he felt about her was dreadfully apparent.

There was a long drawn-out silence.

She forced her mind back to the first time she’d met him. He’d been here—reluctantly, she gathered—for the King’s celebration of forty years of rule. Not knowing the celebrations were underway, shocked by what the doctors were telling her, she’d been frightened enough to try and visit her sister. She’d been stupid enough to hope Mia would care.

Mia hadn’t even wanted to listen. ‘Lily, please, this is a very important evening. Everyone else is here to party. Here’s a dress. Enjoy yourself. I can’t listen to your problems tonight.’

So she’d sat numbly on the edge of the celebrations, trying not to stare into the chasm of her future. But then Alex had smiled at her and he’d asked her to dance.

And here was the result. Michales. Thought by the world to be Queen Mia’s child. Thought, therefore, to be the new King.

No, she thought numbly. Whatever Mia had told the islanders, it was a lie. The true heir was Alex—looking splendid, looking royal, playing his part with ease.

‘Have you talked to Mia?’ he demanded.

She shook her head. ‘That’s…that’s why I’m here. But I gather she’s left…’

‘A mess,’ he snapped. ‘This baby stands to inherit the throne. I’m left in the role of caretaker but I’ve no power. And here you come…You have no right to be here.’

‘I accepted an invitation. I have every right to be here.’ She met his gaze calmly, or as calmly as she could manage. Surface calm. Underneath she was jelly.

But somehow she had to break through his anger. She wasn’t her sister. He had to see that. ‘Alex, last time we met…’ she started but his look would have frozen braver souls than her.

‘Forget it,’ he snapped. ‘I don’t know what game you were playing…’

‘I wasn’t playing a game. I was…’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ His anger slashed the stillness. ‘What matters now is the future of these islands, and that’s nothing to do with you. There are bigger issues. The islanders are enraged. Giorgos and Mia have bled the place dry. I can do nothing to help and I’m stuck with this baby.’

I’m stuck with this baby…

She hadn’t known what power he had to hurt her until this moment. Something inside her died, right then.

He was Michales’s father. I’m stuck with this baby…

It didn’t matter. She had to get the baby away.

‘So…so what happens now?’ she whispered.

‘I try and figure a way out of this mess,’ he said wearily, as if repeating a tale he was tired of telling. ‘The easiest thing to do would be to walk away, but if I do the monarchy will crumble. That’d be a disaster. Giorgos has borrowed to the hilt and most of the island is forfeit if we default. As Prince Regent, I can try and get the economy on its feet. I can service those loans and try to get the land titles back.’

‘You can do that?’

‘I can try,’ he said grimly. ‘Do I have a choice?’

‘You’d rather be King,’ she said and received another flash of anger.

‘What do you think?’ he demanded. ‘I’d like to be King like Giorgos was King? Oh, I’d like his powers. If I was King or Crown Prince instead of Prince Regent, I could restructure the loans and sell royal assets overseas. Did you know Giorgos has properties in Paris, in New York, in London? All over the world. Sold, they’d be worth billions. They’d keep the islanders safe, but as Regent my hands are tied. And your presence helps nothing. Go home, Lily. I don’t need another problem.’

‘But what happens to Michales?’

‘He’ll be cared for. Please leave.’

Dear God…

How could she explain things to him when he looked at her as he did now? And would explanations help? If he knew the truth and still made her leave…

She daren’t risk it.

Confused, she gazed again at the sleeping baby. That this tiny bundle of perfection could be the result of loving this man…

There was no tenderness now. Alex’s voice was implacable. ‘Go away, Lily,’ he said again, his voice lowering to a growled threat. ‘With the way the islanders are feeling, if you show yourself outside these grounds you’ll be lucky to avoid being horsewhipped.’

‘I’m not to blame for what Mia’s done.’

‘You’re her sister. I have to think you know her better than we do.’

‘I hardly know her,’ she whispered, touching the soft baby cheek again. There were so many conflicting emotions playing here. ‘Alexandros…’

‘I don’t think you understand. There is no discussion. You need to leave.’ His face was stern. Impersonal.

The man she’d once thought she loved had disappeared.

But what was at stake here wasn’t a relationship. It couldn’t be. What was at stake was her baby. The passion she’d once felt for Alex had to be put aside. It was a memory only, she told herself. It had no basis in fact.

‘I want a say in how Michales is raised.’ Good, she thought. She’d said it. Maybe in time she’d even manage to tell him the truth. Only not now. Not today, when she felt weak and bereft and torn.

‘It’s up to your sister to agree to your access,’ Alexandros told her. ‘If she takes back the role of mother, then of course you can take on the role of aunt.’

‘I want more.’

‘You can’t have more. My people have been betrayed by what your sister has done.’

‘So they hate me?’

‘They don’t know you. But you look like her. So no, you can’t have access. Contact your sister instead. Drum some sense into her. Make her be a mother.’

‘And meanwhile…’ she swallowed ‘…will you be a father to Michales?’

‘Are you joking?’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘I didn’t like his father and I can’t abide his mother. I’ll make sure there are good people raising him, but he’s nothing to do with me.’

‘So he’ll be raised how you were raised?’

‘How the hell do you know how I was raised?’

‘You told me, Alex,’ she said flatly and he stared at her.

‘I must have,’ he conceded at last. ‘That one night…I hardly remember.’

It needed only that. A night that had changed her world, and he hardly remembered.

‘Look, what is this?’ he demanded. ‘Lily, we slept together but you left the next morning without even a goodbye. Why bring it up again now? I have to think you got what you wanted.’ He sighed again, looking weary of the whole business. Weary of her. ‘I’ll see you get reports of the baby’s progress—even though your sister says she doesn’t want anything to do with him. That’s all I can do.’

‘But he’s your…’

She couldn’t say it. A maid was standing in the doorway, looking anxious. Looking at Lily in recognition.

‘Your Highness, you’re wanted downstairs,’ the girl said to Alex, but she was still staring at Lily. ‘I remember you,’ she said. ‘You’re the Queen’s sister.’

‘I know I’m wanted,’ Alex said grimly. ‘I was just saying goodbye to Miss McLachlan.’

‘Are you leaving, miss?’ the girl asked, looking confused.

‘I suppose I am,’ Lily said, fighting back tears. ‘But…I need to spend some time with Michales. Just a little.’

‘Take as much time as you want,’ Alex agreed, his tone once again implacable. ‘Cradle him all night if you want. See if you can make up for his lack of mothering. But you’ll stay out of sight of my guests, and you’ll leave by tomorrow morning. Goodbye, Lily. Get off my island. You can return with your sister or not at all.’

And, without another word, he wheeled and walked out of the room, leaving her staring after him.

Feeling ill.

‘Did someone give you the letter?’ the maid asked tentatively across the silence.

‘Letter?’

‘The Queen…your sister left only yesterday.’ There was awe in the girl’s voice, as if she still couldn’t believe such scandal. ‘She told me you were expected.’ She crossed to the vast marble fireplace and lifted an envelope from the mantel. ‘I promised I’d give it to you. Oh, but, miss, what was she thinking? To abandon her baby…’

Lily closed her eyes, not even thinking how she could answer. When she opened them the girl was gone. Leaving her with the letter.

What have you done, Mia? she asked herself. Dear God, what a mess.

She flicked open the letter and made herself read. It was like Mia. Blunt, with no emotion.

Dear Lily,

I never wanted your baby. Giorgos was so desperate to stop Alexandros inheriting he decided to adopt a child and swear it was ours. He had it set up—bribing doctors—the works. Then, when you told me you were pregnant and too ill to care for the kid, it was like it was meant.

But now Giorgos is dead. I’m no dowager, Lily, asking for pin money from Alex for the rest of my life. Ben’s rich and fabulous and I’m going with him. Now your head’s been fixed, the baby will be safe with you.

Mia

Lily stared at the letter for so long her eyes blurred. The blurring was frightening all by itself. The last twelve months had been blurred and more blurred, and then completely blank.

That Alex could look at her as he had…

Once there’d been tenderness but, as he’d said, it had been one night of passion, and one night only. It had been a night of fantasy. Not real. Her baby was real.

She stared down into the cot and she felt her heart twist. After all the horror, the bleakness that had been her life thus far, this was reality. This tiny being.

She’d thought he was the result of loving.

He was. She thought that fiercely. Even though they’d only just met, she knew she’d loved his father when she’d conceived this child. Yes, she’d been half crazy with fear, but she’d also been in love.

Her baby would be loved.

What had Alex said? Take as much time as you want.

The door opened and the maid was there again. ‘If you please, miss,’ she said. ‘It’s time for the baby’s feed.’

‘He’s asleep.’

‘It’s four hours since he was last fed,’ the girl said primly. ‘We follow rules.’

‘I see,’ Lily said, swallowing a lump that felt the size of a golf ball. And then she thought, no. No and no and no.

‘You heard what Prince Alexandros said,’ she told the girl, her thoughts eddying and surging, then, like a whirlpool, finding a centre. Enabling her to pull herself together and fight for what she most wanted. ‘Prince Alex said I can take care of Michales until I leave,’ she said. ‘Can you bring me his formula—everything he needs until morning—and let us be?’

‘What—everything?’ the girl said, startled.

‘I mean everything.’

‘But…we have shifts. We change every eight hours. You can’t look after the baby yourself.’

‘Of course I can. A baby should have one carer.’

‘The rules…’

‘Can start tomorrow,’ Lily said flatly. ‘For today I’m his aunt and I’m caring for him. I’ll feed him and then I’ll take him for a walk in the grounds. I’ll sleep in here with him tonight. Can you let the rest of the staff know I don’t need their help until morning?’

‘They won’t be happy,’ the girl said, dubious.

‘Their job is to follow rules,’ Lily said softly and she gazed out of the window again, but this time she looked towards the sea, where her borrowed boat lay at anchor, gently rising and falling on the swell of the incoming tide.

Dared she?

How could she not?

This boat wasn’t big enough for the journey she had in mind. She’d need help. But then, maybe it was time she called in some favours. What had Mia said? Ben’s rich…

Her sister owed her big time. That debt was being called in, right now.

‘You heard Prince Alexandros,’ she said. ‘I need to leave. Tomorrow the nursery’s yours again, but for today…he’s mine.’

It was well into the small hours before Alex found his bed, but still he woke at dawn. He lay staring up at the ceiling, searching for answers.

Trying not to think about Lily.

Thinking about Lily was the way of madness. His life was complicated enough already. He had to find an escape.

There wasn’t one. He was locked into a monarchy so out of date that the country couldn’t go forward.

And Lily was here.

His head was full already without her. Hell, he had responsibilities everywhere. He was trapped.

But right now all he could think of was Lily. White-faced, big-eyed, thinner than when he’d last seen her. Flinching as he’d said he couldn’t remember their lovemaking.

Maybe he’d been too harsh. Telling her she had to leave.

He had no choice. The islanders were appalled at how her sister had behaved. Lily was, at least outwardly, a less groomed, less glitzy version of Mia. Her clothes were built for practicality rather than glamour, but the islanders would still see her sister in her. She wouldn’t be tolerated.

For years the islanders had dreamed that with Giorgos’s death they’d be able to purchase their homes, their olive groves, their right to moor their fishing boats without paying the exorbitant mooring rents they’d been charged for ever. But with the birth of Michales their hopes had been dashed. And now…For Giorgos to die and for his Queen to walk away leaving such a legacy…

He didn’t blame the islanders for their anger. Rebellion was very close but that’d be a disaster, too. He had to find some way through this mess.

To blame Lily wasn’t fair. He knew that. But then, he thought wryly, life wasn’t fair. He had no choice but to be here, and Lily had no choice but to leave.

Today.

A knock sounded on his door. He hated the servants intruding—in truth he hated the idea of servants—but he had to grow accustomed.

‘Yes?’

‘If you please, Your Highness…’ It was one of the nursery maids, wide-eyed and big with news.

‘Yes?’

‘The baby’s gone,’ she breathed. ‘I just put my head around the nursery door and he’s gone. And so has Miss Lily. The groundsmen say her boat’s no longer anchored in the cove. She’s taken our baby, sir. She’s taken the Crown Prince.’

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS six long weeks before he found her.

Alex told the islanders he’d given permission for Lily to care for her nephew while Mia decided what to do, but it was a lie. In reality he had a sworn-tosecrecy team working round the clock, making discreet enquiries, searching across the globe.

Finally his enquiries brought up a birth, registered in the United States:

Michales McLachlan, aged five months, son of Lily McLachlan. Reason for not immediately registering the birth: abroad at time of birth and illness after confinement. Father not listed.

She was registering Michales as hers—as a US citizen. Did she think she could get away with it? He was astounded—furious—and, above all, confused.

Was this a ruse so Mia could get her baby back? It didn’t make sense. If Mia wanted him she could have taken him. Yes, Michales was the future King of the Diamond Isles, but that wouldn’t have prevented him from being raised overseas.

He had to stop it. The one hope the people of the Diamond Isles held was that this baby was a new start. As Prince Regent, Alex could ensure this child was raised with a social conscience. Things could get better.

But things couldn’t get better if the baby wasn’t on the island where he could influence his upbring.

What the hell was Lily doing? Where was she? And where was the baby?

Mia and her new consort were in Dubai, living the high life.

Lily and Michales were nowhere.

And then he had a call from one of his…researchers.

‘Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s returning to the States by boat,’ the man told him. ‘The Nahid belongs to a corporation owned by Ben Merhdad, the guy Queen Mia’s living with. It’s due to dock in Maine on Saturday.’

So here he was, in Maine, on the dock, with two of his men plus an immigration official he’d briefed. It’d solve everything if this baby was never permitted legal entry to the United States.

Two minutes before its designated arrival, a magnificent yacht nosed its way into the harbour.

To his astonishment, Lily was making no attempt to hide. She was standing on deck, wearing faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Her hair was wrapped in another crazy scarf—a silk confection. Gorgeous.

She was holding a baby.

There was an audible gasp from the guys around him. ‘She’s not even hiding him,’ someone said.

‘She’s registered the baby as hers,’ the immigration official said uneasily. ‘She must think she can get away with it.’

‘What the hell’s she playing at?’ Alex growled.

She’d seen him now. Incredibly, she gave him a cheery smile and a wave. She looked like a woman who’d just returned from a pleasure cruise.

She looked…lovely.

Or not. He gave himself a sharp mental swipe to the side of the head. Remember this woman’s like her sister. Lovely is surface deep, he told himself. What’s inside is selfish, greedy and shallow.

Testosterone was not what was needed.

What was needed was a swift end to this farce.

But she didn’t look concerned. She seemed to be the only passenger, standing calmly on the deck as lines were secured…as a crewman carried a couple of bags from below…as Alex gave up waiting and stepped over onto the deck.

‘Hi,’ she said, and she smiled brightly again, as if he was a friend she was pleased to meet after a casual morning’s cruise. ‘I thought you might be here. Good detective work.’

‘Are you out of your mind?’

‘No,’ she said, and kept right on smiling. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘You’ve taken the baby…’

‘No,’ she said, and her smile slipped a little. ‘Not the baby. My baby.’

‘Yours.’ The word sucked air from his lungs.

‘Michales is mine,’ she said. She turned to the crew and her smile returned. ‘Thanks, guys. You’ve been fabulous. Please thank Ben for me. I can manage from here.’

‘We’ve organised transport. And security.’ One of the crew—by his demeanour, Alex assumed he was captain—motioned to the dock, and for the first time Alex was aware of a limousine. A uniformed chauffeur was standing at attention, and two dark-suited men stood behind.

‘Will I need security?’ Lily asked, seemingly of the world at large. ‘I’m sure I won’t.’ She turned back to Alex and gave him another of her bright smiles. ‘It’s up to you, Your Highness. Will I need muscle to protect what’s mine?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

She motioned to the men beside him. ‘I think you do. You thought you might take my baby away from me.’

‘He’s not your baby.’

‘He is.’

‘Miss.’ It was the immigration official. Alex had laid the situation before the US immigration authorities, asking for discretion. This man was senior enough to know what to do, and he had the authority to do it. He was wearing a look of determination and gravitas—an official about to lay down the law. ‘According to His Highness, this baby is the Crown Prince of the Diamond Isles. He’s the son of King Giorgos and Queen Mia.’

‘That was a mistake,’ Lily said. ‘Michales is mine. His birth is registered under my name. He’s a citizen of the United States.’

‘That’s not been proven,’ the man said, clearly unimpressed. ‘You can’t arrive in the States with a baby and claim he’s yours.’

‘Without proof,’ Lily finished for him.

‘Registering the baby’s birth isn’t proof.’

‘No,’ she said softly. ‘But this is.’ She handed over a wallet she’d had tucked under Michales’s shawl. ‘This is confirmation by legitimate medical authorities that I had a baby less than six months ago. You’ll see it’s indisputable—the French authorities were very thorough when I told them what I needed. Also attached is the report of DNA samples from my son and from me. I’m happy to have the tests repeated here if you wish, but you’ll get the same answers. This baby was passed off by my brother-in-law, the King of the Diamond Isles, as his own, in order to prevent Prince Alexandros ascending to the throne. But this baby is mine, and I intend to keep him.’

She wanted this to be over. She was desperate for it to be over. She needed to sound brave, but inside she felt ill. And the way Alex was looking at her…

No. Concentrate on the official. He was the man she had to convince.

She met the immigration official’s gaze directly, trying desperately to ignore Alex. The effect he had on her had to be ignored. Everything about him had to be ignored. ‘Is there anything more you need from me?’ she managed. ‘Michales is due for a feed in less than an hour. I want my son settled in his new home by then. If you gentlemen will excuse us, we need to get on.’

The immigration official was leafing swiftly through the papers, his brow creasing in confused recognition.

‘These are highly reputable authorities,’ he said at last.

‘I told you. I’ve used the best. But of course, as I said, I’m happy for the tests to be repeated.’

‘We’ll contact you,’ the immigration official said, but his tone had changed. ‘In view of this gentleman’s allegations…’ He motioned to Alex, but there was no way Lily was looking there. ‘We may well need to have these verified. But on the surface everything appears in order. Welcome home, miss, to you and your son.’

‘Thank you.’ It was over. Thank God. She took a step towards the gangplank.

Alex was suddenly in front of her.

On the dock, the two men were out from behind the car almost before he blocked her passage, moving purposely towards them. Good old Ben, Lily thought appreciatively. She’d never met her sister’s lover, but in the first flush of romance anything was possible. Especially if you had billions and your girlfriend was being threatened with being landed with an unwanted baby if he didn’t agree.

She hadn’t meant her threats but she’d used them anyway. ‘He’s your baby until proven otherwise,’ she’d told Mia. ‘I’ll bring him to you and I’ll keep on bringing him to you until you help me.’

So Ben’s money was at her disposal. She might need it still, she thought. Alex surely couldn’t carry her baby off by force but…who knew? He looked angry enough to try.

‘Let me pass, Alex,’ she said, but his hands fell onto her shoulders and held.

‘What the hell are you playing at?’

‘I’m taking what’s mine,’ she said, jutting out her chin. Trying to sound braver than she was. ‘Michales is mine.’

‘Are you kidding? He belongs to Mia and Giorgos.’

‘I just explained that was a lie.’ She took a deep breath. Okay. This had to be said some time. What better time than right now? ‘Think about why they might have lied, Alex,’ she said gently. ‘You’ll see for yourself what’s happened.’

His anger was building. ‘The three of you lied? You agreed to it?’

‘I was…ill.’

‘You mean you were paid,’ he snapped, staring around at the luxury yacht as if it had a bad smell. ‘I know your family. You don’t have a penny to bless yourself with.’

‘Let’s not get personal.’

‘This is nonsense.’ He stared down at the baby in her arms. Cocooned in a soft cream alpaca shawl, Michales slept on, oblivious to the drama being played out around him. ‘Of course the baby’s Mia’s,’ he snapped. ‘He looks like Mia, and he looks like Giorgos.’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ she said, so softly that no one but Alex could hear.

‘He does.’

‘Well, maybe a bit,’ she conceded. ‘But then Mia looks like me. And Giorgos…Giorgos had the Sappheiros royal family features. Who else do I know who might have those features? Work out the dates, Alex. Go figure.’

And, with a faint smile, the result of sheer willpower, she pushed past him.

And that was it. A moment later she was in the limousine. Her baggage was in the trunk and they were moving away.

Alex didn’t make a move to follow. He simply stood on the yacht in the warm sunshine and stared after her.

It was done, she thought, shaking with reaction. She’d reclaimed her son.

She could get on with her life.

For days Lily held her breath. She didn’t think there was a danger that Alex would try to take Michales forcibly—but she didn’t know for sure.

She’d half expected a media frenzy. By reclaiming Michales she was changing the succession of three royal families. The kingdom would dissolve, and the old principalities would take their place. From what she’d figured from reading a potted history of the Isles on the Internet, Alex would now be Crown Prince of Sappheiros. He’d be the real ruler of one island, rather than the caretaker of three.

But it seemed that whatever Alex planned, he wasn’t making it public. He hadn’t publicised Michales’s disappearance either, even though an international hunt might well have blown her cover.

His silence unnerved her, but at least it gave her time to get to know her son. To fall more deeply in love than she’d ever thought she could be.

‘It’s not the living arrangements you’re used to,’ she told her tiny son as she introduced him to his new home. Her window looked out over the boatyard. Her boss and his team were at work right under her window, stretching timbers over the frame of a skiff.

She’d soon be down there. The knowledge settled her. Spiros wanted her back and she wanted to be there. If she left her window open she could hear Michales cry, and Spiros’s wife would be only too delighted to help.

This could work.

Meanwhile she sat on her faded quilt on her saggy bed and cuddled her son.

She could make him smile, and she was well enough to enjoy him. Life stretched before her, full of endless possibilities. Surely there could be no greater happiness?

Her only cloud? Alex would come, she knew this wasn’t over.

Alex—oh, if things could only be different.

They couldn’t be different. She forced herself to relax. She forced herself to be optimistic, for there was no going back. This might be Alex’s baby, but first and foremost he was hers.

It had taken Alex almost a week to sort things out in his head. Even then they didn’t feel sorted. Where to go to from here? He couldn’t simply take what Lily told him at face value, tell the islanders they’d been conned and move forward.

But at last, finally, he was starting to accept what she’d told him as the truth.

For the test results Lily had given the immigration official were watertight. Alex had stood by the man’s side as he’d rung the French authorities, and he’d heard the outrage that their tests be questioned. Lily had gone to enormous trouble to ensure these were seen as legitimate. She’d organised independent witnesses as DNA samples had been taken. She’d even agreed to have witnesses as she’d been examined to prove she’d borne a child five months ago.

Michales was her baby.

And…his? Was she serious?

He remembered the little boy as he’d last seen him, sleeping in his mother’s arms. Dark lashes. Thick black curls. Smiling even in sleep.

He was beautiful.

He was his son.

It was too big to take in.

But, believe it or not, this baby was proven to be not the natural child of Mia and Giorgos. There’d been no official adoption—only deception.

The legal ramifications were mind-blowing.

He’d needed help. He’d needed the best constitutional lawyers money could buy, and the best political advisors. He’d consulted them—they’d pored over ancient documents, they’d scratched their heads and they’d outlined facts he didn’t want to know.

This was impossible. He needed a magic wand so the past few months could disappear and he could rule without the encumbrance of a baby.

His son.

The more he thought of the lie that had been perpetrated, the sicker he became. That Giorgos and Mia had deliberately deceived the islanders…That Lily had consented…

Had she deliberately seduced him? It had to be faced. Had it been a deliberate plan by the three of them, with Mia pulling out after Giorgos’s death only when she’d realised she had no financial independence?

Was Mia’s abandonment why Lily had changed her mind and taken her baby back? And what was this illness she’d talked about? She’d been fine six weeks ago at his coronation.

Enquiries to the doctors she’d cited had been stonewalled, citing privacy. Privacy with the succession at stake? Hell, he was almost up to bribing hospital officials to get the answers he wanted.

Not quite. Not yet. He’d ask her directly first.

He’d talked on, privately, to lawyer after lawyer, to advisor after advisor. He’d talked to Stefanos and to Nikos. He’d thought of one disaster after another…

And when they’d told him the only path that was sure to save the islands he’d felt ill.

Finally, bleak and still unbelieving, he returned to the dockyards, to the address Lily had given the authorities as her permanent home. To the apartment over the boatyard he’d visited once before.

He went alone, slipping in the back way, not wanting to be noticed. Hoping like hell that Lily had rid herself of the bodyguards she’d had with her the week before.

He knocked at the door to her first-floor apartment and he thought this must be a mistake—she’d never live like this. Not Mia’s sister.

No one answered. He twisted the doorknob, expecting it to be locked.

It gave under his hand.

Her apartment was one room, simply furnished. There was a double bed, big and saggy, covered with a patchwork quilt that had seen better days. There was a tiny table with a single kitchen chair, a battered armchair, a tiny television, a rod and curtain in the corner constituting a wardrobe.

There was a cot beside the open window. With…With…

Michales? Alone?

No. Ignore the cot. He didn’t have space in his head to look at the little person in the cot.

Would he ever?

What sort of a mother was she to leave him alone? Anyone could walk in here.

She was just like Mia.

Concentrate on other things, he thought fiercely. He needed some sort of handle on Lily. Some awareness of who she was.

The apartment was furnished as if the owner had no money to spare, but it didn’t scream poverty. Gingham curtains framed the windows. The windows were open, letting in sunlight and the sounds from the boatyard below. There were pots of petunias on the windowsills, and a seagull was balancing on one leg looking hopefully inside.

It looked…great.

It also looked about as far from a royal residence as it could get.

Where was Lily?

Michales…his son…was sound asleep.

His son.

He could just pick him up and take him, he thought. How easy would that be?

What did he want with a baby? With this baby?

With…his baby?

He walked over to the window—still carefully not looking at the cot—and glanced out. And there was Lily.

She was right below him, deep in the hull of an embryonic boat. The boat’s ribs stretched around her, bare, raw timber. The guy he’d met twelve months before—Lily’s boss?—was hauling a length of wood from a steaming vat.

To his amazement, it was Lily calling the shots. She was dressed in serviceable bib-and-brace overalls, workmanlike boots, a baseball cap and thick leather gloves to her elbows. She received the timber from Spiros and her orders flew, curt and incisive.

Her whole attention was on the plank. They had it in place and she was hauling it by hand, pushing, twisting…Two other men were helping, using their brute strength to help her, but Lily was doing the guiding.

He watched on, fascinated. Only when the wood was a fully formed rib, one of the vast timbers forming the skeleton of the new hull, did she stand back and look at it as a whole.

‘That’s fantastic,’ she called. ‘Ten down and a hundred and sixty to go? We’ll get them done by teatime.’

There was laughter and a communal groan.

She laughed with them. She was…one of the boys? The men were deferring to her with respect.

‘I need to check on Michales,’ she was saying. ‘He’s due for a feed. You think you can do the next one without me?’ She glanced up at the window.

She saw him.

He’d expected shock. Maybe even fear. Instead, her eyebrows rose, just a fraction. She gave him a curt nod, as if acknowledging past acquaintance, or maybe that she’d attend to him shortly, then deliberately turned her back on him. She strolled over to talk to Spiros.

Spiros was about to lower another plank, but he was looking at it doubtfully. Now he swore and thrust it aside.

‘It’s not worth it. There’s a flaw in the middle and the rest are the same. They’ll break before they ever bend. Enough. You go and feed your little one, and I’ll send the boys to get more.’ He smiled at her with real affection. ‘Don’t you keep my godson waiting.’ Then he, too, glanced up at the window. His smile died.

Spiros stared at Alex for a long minute. What had Lily told him?

Nothing favourable, clearly.

‘Hey, look who the cat brought home,’ he said, his tone softly threatening. ‘It seems we have company.’

His big body was pure aggression. If Spiros had been Lily’s father the message couldn’t have been clearer. ‘You mess with Lily, you mess with me.’

With us. The entire team was gazing at him now. This was hostile territory.

There was a slight noise behind him. He turned and a middle-aged woman was standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed across her ample breasts. She looked immovable and as aggressive as the men on the docks.

Maybe he couldn’t just pick up Michales and take him.

‘What do you want?’ Spiros demanded from below. ‘What the hell are you doing in Lily’s apartment?’

‘It’s okay, Spiros,’ Lily said. ‘I’ve been expecting him. Though I shouldn’t have left it unlocked.’

‘It’s okay,’ the woman called to Lily. ‘I’m here.’ She stalked over to the cot and put her body between him and his…the baby.

He couldn’t look at…the baby.

Unnerved, he looked down at the docks again. Lily was only ten feet under him, giving him a bird’s-eye view. She was too thin, he thought. Her bib-and-brace overalls were loose and baggy. Her glorious curls were caught up under a boy’s baseball cap, worn back to front. She had a smudge of grease down one cheek.

She looked about fifteen.

But then, ‘I’m hoping he’s here to organise paternity payments,’ she told Spiros, and he stopped thinking of what she looked like.

‘He’s your baby’s father?’ Spiros demanded.

‘He is. This is Alexandros, Prince Regent of Sappheiros.’

If he’d expected a bit of deference he would have been disappointed. Spiros’s aggression simply doubled. Tripled. And the gasp from the woman at the cot was one of indignation and affront.

‘So where the hell have you been?’ Spiros demanded from below. ‘Alexandros of Sappheiros. A prince of the blood, leaving Lily alone with a child…What were you thinking?’

This was crazy. He didn’t need these accusations.

He should go down.

Not with the amount of aggression directed at him, he decided. He could talk a lot more reasonably from up here. Especially if he kept his back turned to Madam Fury.

‘I searched for her,’ he told the boat-builder, trying to keep his voice moderate. Reasonable. ‘You know I did.’

‘Once,’ Spiros said, and spat his disgust. ‘You came here once. If she’d been my woman I would have hunted her to the ends of the earth.’

‘I’m not his woman,’ Lily retorted.

‘He’s the father of your baby,’ Spiros countered, pugnacious. ‘Of course you’re his woman.’

‘Times change,’ she said softly. ‘You know they do. Spiros, I need to talk to him.’

‘Then talk,’ he said, glowering. ‘Go on. But, prince or no prince, remember he has no rights here. Leave your window open and call us if you need us.’ And with a humph of indignation—and a meaningful and warning stare at Alex—he turned his back on him.

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